


i don't mind if you wanna go anywhere (i'd take you there)

by undercover_martyr



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Mutual Pining, oblivious idiots, other characters to be added in the second chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 14:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21303686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undercover_martyr/pseuds/undercover_martyr
Summary: Emily’s three when the writing starts to show up on her skin.
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 18
Kudos: 105





	i don't mind if you wanna go anywhere (i'd take you there)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "chateau" by angus and julia stone because this song completely inspired this fic

Emily’s three when the writing starts to show up on her skin.

She doesn’t remember it of course, there’s no way she could, but her mom does.

They’d been on the back porch swing, the late Georgia summer breeze cool enough that in the picture, Emily had been wearing a sweater. She had been been playing with her childhood dog, her mom told her later, when she had felt a sharp pain on her wrist, and only once her mom had been able to calm her down had she realized that Emily had gotten her soulmate’s name on her wrist.

Lindsey, it said, in big loopy letters that seemed so big, at the time, for Emily’s tiny wrist.

And never mind the fact that Lindsey was very clearly a girl’s name, that this was the South in the 1990’s, that Emily could not possibly know the implications of what this might mean for her, her mom was happy.

The picture from that afternoon shows Emily sitting on the swing and showing her wrist out with a smile too big for her face.

Wherever she goes, Emily keeps it on her desk.

*

Lindsey is 17 when she comes to terms with the fact that she doesn’t have a soulmate.

For some reason, she had thought that she would be more upset about the discovery, but it’s hard enough to think about basic necessities instead of soccer as it is, so she barely spares a thought to this new development and shelves it in the back of her mind.

At first she tells herself that she will deal with it whenever she figures her life out, and at first it’s UNC, but then it ends up being Paris, and Lindsey feels as though she’s playing a perpetual game of catch up with her own life, so she never thinks about the fact that literally everyone she knows have names on their wrists and she doesn’t.

It’s okay, she tells herself, she clearly wouldn’t have time for them anyway.

That becomes her reality, her mantra, and no one really looks that surprised when Lindsey says that she doesn’t have a soulmate.

She’s in Paris, and she’s getting to live out her dream at PSG, and really, life could be so much worse than just not having a soulmate.

Lindsey is 19 and sitting in her apartment watching a movie with Tobin when she feels a sharp pain on her right wrist and discovers that her soulmate is someone named Emily.

It’s written in a neat, all caps handwriting, strikingly pretty and so different to her own that Lindsey feels bad for Emily for having Lindsey’s handwriting on her wrist.

Her first reaction is to laugh. Tobin, who had been watching the movie with the interest of someone who had nothing better to do, turns around and raises an eyebrow in question, and the movement is so Tobin that Lindsey chokes up at the sight.

Tobin must see it then, the name, and there, in the middle of Paris, on a rainy February afternoon, Lindsey cries out of relief into Tobin’s shoulder.

*

Emily’s parents had told her when she became old enough to ask questions about the name on her wrist, that she’d just know when she met her soulmate.

Emily is 17 and at an Under-17 camp when she meets Lindsey Horan and her whole world turns on its axis.

Lindsey is strikingly pretty, with her blond hair, and her blue eyes. She’s taller than Emily, taller than everyone it seems, and she’s so damn talented that she makes everyone else looks like an utter fool.

Lindsey, who only talks to Rose Lavelle and Mallory Pugh, who is polite and kind but only really smiles on the pitch.

Lindsey, who is going pro straight out of high school to Paris no less, who is more brave than Emily could ever be.

Lindsey, who definitely doesn’t have Emily’s name on her wrist because she doesn’t have anyone’s name on her wrist. 

“It doesn’t bother me,” Lindsey had said one time at lunch, long after Emily had figured out that she had Lindsey’s name on her wrist. Emily had chewed on her salad diligently, trying to appear as if she wasn’t hanging on to Lindsey’s every word. “I don’t have time for that anyway.”

Emily spends the whole camp trying to survive, hide her wrist from Lindsey, and somehow get to know her simultaneously.

At the end of camp, when they’re at the airport and about to board, Lindsey hugs her once, a quick goodbye, and Emily stares at her retreating figure for minutes after she disappears and resolves to be the best at everything she does only so that she can be good enough for Lindsey

*

Lindsey is 22 when Paris starts to feel less like home and more like a burden to her future career.

Jill sits her down after camp is over, makes it clear that if her future is not with the NWSL then it’s not with the national team either, and well.

When put like that, it’s not much of a choice.

It’s 3 weeks later, after a lot of calls and little sleep, after Christmas and the new year, when Lindsey signs for Portland.

It’s Alex who goes the other way, to Orlando, but with Alex’s departure comes the arrival of new rookies ( one of which Lindsey has some vague memories from some under-18 camps from years past), and Lindsey can’t wait to get started.

It’s Tobin who picks her up at the airport, and she wears a snapback and sunglasses, even though it’s kind of cold and she should by all means be freezing, but the sight of her standing there warms her heart more than Paris ever could.

After that it’s upwards… mostly.

Her life is pretty good. She’s playing for the best team in the league, alongside Tobin, one of the people she looks up to most in the world, and Portland as a city is arguably way more friendly and feels more like home than Paris ever could.

So yeah, all in all her life is pretty good.

That is, until she remeets Emily Sonnet and then all of Lindsey’s plans get thrown for a loop.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so, i promise that the second part of this is huge and i'm still working on it, but i just wanted to post this.
> 
> let me know what works/ what doesn't work, or what you'd like to see.
> 
> thanks for reading.


End file.
